


The Doctor's Impossible Girl

by agent_starbuck



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Allonswin, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 10:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_starbuck/pseuds/agent_starbuck
Summary: Clara becomes sick and the Doctor takes care of her. Pure fluff and smut. Enjoy!Ten x Clara (Allonswin).--------------------------------------------------I've always sort of thought the Tenth Doctor and Clara would have great chemistry together.(Originally posted on Who Fic in 2016.)





	The Doctor's Impossible Girl

"Allllright, I'm ready! Of we pop; let's go, then!" Clara bounced as she passed the Doctor, and headed for the door.  
  
"Waiiiit. Stop right there."   
  
Clara froze in her tracks.  
  
The Doctor, wearing a concerned look on his face, slowly strode towards his dark-haired companion, hands in his trouser pockets. Closing the distance between them, he reached out, and spun her around by the shoulders until she was facing him.  
  
"Why, what's wrong?" Clara said, nonchalantly; avoiding eye-contact with the Time Lord who was now looking her up and down.  
  
"You're ill. Look at you. Your face is flushed, and...," taking his screwdriver out of his coat pocket, he scanned her body, "you're registering a temperature of 101." Unsatisfied, he placed the back of his hand on her forehead, just to make sure.  
  
"Yep," he said, quirking an eyebrow, and popping the last 'P,' "you're burning up."  
  
"Doctor... I'm fine," placing a hand on his shoulder to mirror his actions, "really...," Clara retorted, rather unconvincingly, before quickly spinning around, and heading for the door again.   
  
Only this time, the sudden movement made her head go fuzzy, and losing her balance, she nearly fell to the floor... if it wasn't for the quick reflexes of a certain, fit Time Lord, who happened to catch her around the waist, and pull her to him... she would have.  
  
Clara's mind began spinning, and she had a difficult time focusing her eyes. She felt delirious, and wasn't sure if it was because of the proximity of her body to the Doctor's (she was practically flush against him), or if it was because she was, indeed, coming down with something.  
  
They both ceased to move for, what seemed like, an eternity. The Doctor had yearned, for so long, to feel his beautiful companion's body against his, to hold her in his arms. There had always been something captivating about his Clara. They hadn't been traveling together long, but he so admired her easy confidence, and playful banter. However, it was her eyes that enchanted him more than anything... Those large, dark hazel eyes. He could see right into her soul; they always held so much truth behind them... It was like he could see his true self mirrored in the reflection of her eyes when he held her gaze. Sometimes, that was a good thing. Other times, it scared him. But, always, it was necessary. He had begun to rely on her so much to keep himself in check these last few months. She was his supporter, his critic, his greatest encourager. She always knew when he was stepping out of line; always knew when he needed a hug, or a reassuring smile; always knew when to push him to be better. He'd never had a companion quite so attuned to his thoughts and feelings; it was a little unnerving.  
  
Any time they touched, even anything so much as a quick hug, electricity seemed to crackle between them. It happened the first time they met: that unconventional time when he was along side his Eleventh form, and he took her hand in the museum, and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. The way she looked at him, even then, was enough to send a tingle down his spine. He remembered leaving in the TARDIS, and secretly cursing himself for finding her during his Eleventh form, and not sooner.  
  
But luck seemed to smile upon him, and his last regeneration was faulty, resulting in his genes reprogramming themselves to take his last form. It was almost like a computer reformatting. His body rebooted to the last known regeneration sequence, and he once again became that dashing Time Lord with impeccably great hair, and tight suits. It was like winning the regeneration lottery, and he was thankful Clara would get to spend time with him in this form because... well... it oozed sexuality, and charm, and he'd learned a few things about human women since Rose. And if he was certain about anything, it was that he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Especially, when he had a brilliant, witty companion like Clara.  
  
"Doctor... erm, I...," Clara's unsteady voice brought him back to reality. She seemed lethargic, and a bit confused, and his hearts dropped in his chest. Beads of sweat were starting to collect on those dark brows of hers, her cheeks a light pink, eyes lidded and unfocused, and if he weren't so concerned for her health, he could've sworn she was the most exquisite thing he'd ever beheld.  
  
But he WAS concerned, and he needed to act now, before her condition deteriorated any further.  
  
"C'mon, we need to get you to the infirmary."  
  
"No! I'm fine... I... I just got dizzy is all," Clara struggled to keep her composure, and pulled away to attempt standing on her own.  
  
"Clara Oswald, my impossible girl. You are impossibly stubborn. Am I going to have to drag you kicking and screaming? Because I will, you know." His voice was commanding, with an air of amusement. She always had to make things difficult for him. And, if he were honest with himself, he wouldn't have expected (or wanted) anything else.  
  
"No, but... We're going to see the Canyons of Skó, and I've been looking forward to this for weeks, and... I even bought new boots... and," her shaky legs began to buckle, and she found herself back in the Doctor's arms. "I... don't know what's wrong... I feel...," and with that she collapsed completely; darkness enveloping her senses, until there was nothing but silence.  
  
The Doctor sprung into action, and scooped Clara's petite form up into his arms, rushing down the corridors to the infirmary, trying not to let panic overcome him. He needed to stay calm and focus if he was going to find out what was making his companion sick.  
  
_____________________________________  
  
When Clara's eyes fluttered open, she saw the Doctor intently gazing upon her, his expression fraught with worry. Relief slowly crept into his features, however, as he watched her regain consciousness.  
  
"Hello." His voice was soft, soothing, unusually low.  
  
"Hello," Clara replied, voice raspy, but managing a tiny smile. "What happened? I feel like I've been hit by a train."  
  
"You have an infection. A parasite called 'Peniculus Tertius' transmitted the infection through that cut in your foot you incurred during our last trip to the Moons of Berrella Three. It causes fever, mild hallucinations, weakness, and eventually leads to paralysis if a parasiticide isn't administered quickly."  
  
Clara rubbed her eyes, wincing as the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs were causing her head to throb.  
  
She paused to glance over at the Doctor.  
  
"Wait, did you say it was called 'Peniculus Tertius'? Three... penises...?" Clara mused, as the Doctor stared at her, slightly taken aback. "I... took Latin my third year in College. A girl I fancied, Lola, was really into ancient languages, and I took it to impress her. Never thought learning the term 'penis' in Latin would come in handy... Then or now, come to think of it..." She trailed off as the Doctor swallowed thickly, trying to push the thought of Clara and another girl going at it out of his mind...  
  
"Yeah... I mean, erm, the term 'penis' here actually means 'tail.' This particular parasite has three tails, which help propel it quickly through the bloodstream, and aids in spreading the infection more rapidly." His tone became lighter, almost giddy. It was as if scientific jargon was a means of regressing back into his 'Doctorish' demeanour; a way to armour himself against any more questionable topics that could cause his mind to wander.  
  
"Oh, well, that's lovely, then. So, please tell me you administered the parasiticide, and I'm on my way to recovering quickly..."  
  
"Welllll... Yes... And no. Yes, you're going to be okay, in the long run. There shouldn't be any lasting ill effects. But I'm afraid you'll have to stay in bed a few days while your body fights the infection."  
  
Clara managed a condescending look, "You know I'm no good at staying in bed. You planning on tying me down or something?" As soon as the words fell from her lips, she blushed a bit, and looked away. The Doctor was trying to appear unaffected at the image that just flooded his mind, but she could tell his behaviour changed. He began to squirm uncomfortably in his chair, and rub his hand over the back of his head, in an agitated manner, avoiding her eyes.  
  
It dawned on her then that maybe the Doctor wasn't as unaffected by their chemistry as she previously thought. She always felt it around him. Even in his previous form; there was always flirting and long pauses, but the sexual tension seemed to be amplified with this 'new' version of the Doctor. Lately, they held each other's gazes longer, and shared more subtle, little touches. It had seemed the boundaries of their relationship were being strained, and they both knew something was changing.   
  
However, Clara hadn't wanted to entertain that idea; the possibility of there being something more between them frightened her like no other. She wasn't a woman that was easily intimidated, but the thought of crossing that line with the one person who mattered more to her than anything, was enough to send a wave of panic over her.  
  
Clara cleared her throat, "Annnyway, I mean, you gave me the medicine, so I should be okay, yeah? Can't we at least TRY to see the Canyons of Skó? I'll have a medical professional by my side in case anything happens...," she managed to look up at him with puppy eyes and a small grin, a technique she'd learnt he was never able to resist.  
  
The Doctor let out a defeated sigh, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, all right. BUT any sign that you're not feeling well, and it's to bed with you. I mean it, Clara."   
  
"Yes, sir," she replied with a small nod and salute. She got up off the examining table just a little too quickly, and felt the familiar wave of dizziness crash over her again. The Doctor caught her by the shoulders, and steadied her, "Careful." His breath was hot against her ear, and they both took notice of the proximity of their bodies once more. "You're not going to make it out the door if you don't take it easy." Concern, mixed with something else... (restraint, longing, desire?)... was evidenced in his soft voice. Clara pushed the thought out of her mind, and began to carefully make her way to the doorway. She turned to the Doctor, "Thank you. For saving me. I... I wouldn't know what to do without you." She worried her bottom lip as she spoke, but it was the most honest statement of appreciation she could offer. She really DIDN'T know what she would do with out that daft man; a truth that unnerved her to no end.  
  
Getting dressed in her room, Clara's mind wouldn't focus on anything but the Doctor. His smell, his touch. Today he was... different. The way he spoke her name, looked deep into her eyes, held her close. She knew he was concerned about her condition, obviously, but there was something else. Was she imagining it? She felt as though she was going crazy. She needed to know. It was the not knowing that she couldn't stand. She didn't like not being in control. She was done fooling herself... If she had to be honest, she really did love him. And more than just platonically. There was no going back from that; her mind had betrayed her long ago. But actually following through with those feelings? Putting herself out there, and risking what they have? If she kept putting herself through this torture any longer, it was going to kill her. She needed to know if he felt about her the same way she did him.   
_____________________________________  
When she walked into the console room, she found the Doctor deep in thought, absentmindedly fiddling with this control and that. He looked... knackered. Her heart sank at the sight of him: disheveled hair and rumpled shirt, half tucked in and out, tie hanging low off his neck. She'd never quite seen him like this. Was he struggling silently, just as she'd been doing lately, over what to do about their current situation; about them? The thought of this brilliant man, her Doctor, being racked with feelings, for her, was a bit overwhelming. Surely she wasn't imagining it. What else could it be?  
  
Clara cleared her throat, tentatively walking towards him.  
  
"Oh, right, hello, erm... Shouldn't be much longer now. I have the coordinates plugged in, and I'm just waiting on the TARDIS to recalibrate the engines before we take off," the Doctor managed to sound like his normal self, through extraordinary effort on his part, no less.   
  
"Doctor," Clara reached out a hand to touch his arm, but retracted at the last minute. "You okay? You look... tired. We can go tomorrow, if you'd rather wait." The Doctor avoided her eyes; who was he kidding? He WAS tired. But he was tired of waiting. Tired of lying in bed night after night tortured with thoughts of his companion's luscious lips on his skin; of his hands in her thick, chestnut hair. Lately, it was becoming a monumental effort not to press her up against the console and ravish her with kisses. What in the Holy Rassilion of Gallifrey had come over him?   
  
He managed the most reassuring smile he could muster, "Naaah. You've been waiting to go for weeks. And if you're feeling up to going, I wouldn't want to stand in your way. Besides, it's no fun staying in bed all day. Especially, when you've got a whole galaxy at your fingertips to explore."  
  
A blush crept upon Clara's face at what she was thinking; staying in bed with a gorgeous Time Lord would be JUST like having the whole galaxy at her fingertips to explore. And she'd much rather spend the rest of her life exploring every inch of her precious Doctor, than seeing everything the universe had to offer.  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say that. Staying in bed all day CAN be a fun way to pass time...," she said, her voice surprisingly sultry and thick. "Especially, when you have someone to share it with." Her heart was speeding up, she could hear the blood rushing in her head. It was the bravest thing she'd ever said to him, and that's saying something considering her usually fearless and spirited repertoire.  
  
The Doctor froze. She couldn't be sure, but she was almost certain she could hear his heartbeats thumping wildly beneath his chest. His breathing started to quicken, pupils became dilated, and his hands tightened on the edge of the console. She wasn't a rocket scientist, but she knew blokes, and the Doctor's body language was giving him away: he was turned on. Forget about superior Time Lord genetics, and the ability to suppress his primal desires... The Doctor was actually, properly turned on. And it was hot.  
  
Confidence began to swell within her. "Now. It's now or never," she silently repeated to herself.   
  
She moved in closer, ghosting her fingers up his back, and leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I've wanted to share my bed with you since the moment you kissed my hand in the museum."  
  
Before she had a chance to continue, the Doctor had spun around to back her up against the railing... hands on either side of her body, pinning her against him. His eyes were wild; his pupils dark with arousal. A thrill shot up her spine. This was an entirely different side to the Doctor she had never seen. She always fantasised about him like this, all fire, and heat, and desire... and pure sex. The Doctor wasn't anything if he wasn't passionate, about... well, everything he did, and she was about to see what other, more amorous pursuits he could also be passionate about.  
  
"Have you any idea what you've been doing to me lately?" his low voice was strangled and raspy next to her ear. He pulled back to look her in the eyes. She could see the torment in them, and all she could think about was consoling him, comforting him... taking away the pain, then and there. She needed him to know that he wasn't alone; that she too had been tortured because of her feelings for him.  
  
"Yes," was all she could whisper back, "because you've been doing the very same thing to me."  
  
The Doctor's breathing was quick and shallow, and she could feel the electricity hum beneath his finger tips where they rested on her hipbone. She noticed his gaze shift to her lips, and his head dipped ever so slowly until he was just millimetres away; the ghost of his breath on her mouth. He lingered here, waiting for her to close the distance. Because that's who they were: they did everything together, as partners, and he needed to know she was willing to fall over the edge with him. They both knew there was no turning back once the dam had broken.  
  
Clara complied, and gently pressed her soft, supple lips to his. The kiss was slow at first, their lips moving languorously against one another, until Clara grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to bring him in harder against her. He groaned into her mouth, and cupped her face in his hands, pressing every inch of himself against her, kissing her like his life depended on it. He wanted to give her everything he had to offer, all of him, if she was willing to take it.   
  
Soon breathing became a necessity, and they reluctantly broke apart, chests heaving, lips swollen. They were certainly a sight to behold. Clara's mind was heady with desire, and fighting off an infection from an alien parasite wasn't helping matters. Her head began to spin, and she fell slightly forward against the Doctor.  
  
"Oh, Clara... I'm so sorry. I'm such a git, I forgot you still haven't entirely recovered from your infection."  
  
"Doctor, I'm fine. I think I'm more lightheaded because of this," she gestured between the two of them, "than anything else. You have quite the effect on me, it seems," she quipped.  
  
"Really? Then I must be coming down with something, as well, 'cause I feel lightheaded every time I'm near you." He leaned in to kiss a spot he was eyeing on her neck, taking in her scent, and letting out a small growl before scooping her up, and carrying her down the corridor to his bedroom.  
  
"Hey, what're you doing," Clara giggled, "Doctor!"   
________________________________  
  
He carried her across the threshold of his bedroom, straight to the giant, four poster bed in the middle of the room, and sat her down.  
  
"You, Clara Oswald, are still recovering from a very serious infection, and I'm here to make sure you stay in bed, where you belong. Doctor's orders." He looked up at her through mischievous eyes, and quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, if it's Doctor's orders, I guess I have to obey." She reached up to grab his tie, and pull him down over her, his full weight on top of her now, noticing the evidence of his desire for her pressing up against her stomach. This sudden new contact made her breath hitch, and she realised she need to feel more of him. Now. A jolt of pure want and need surged through her to the pit deep in her belly, and she began to rock her hips to feel friction where she desired it most. A small moan escaped her lips.  
  
That's was all it took to nudge the doctor into action. He'd imagined this very moment thousands of times before; pictured his beautiful Clara sprawled out underneath him, ready and willing. He imagined what noises she would make, what her moans would sound like. In this moment, all he wanted to do was make her feel good.  
  
He started placing chaste kisses to her clavicle and neck, sucking on her pulse-point before slowly snaking his hand under her shirt to finally feel skin on skin. He felt her shudder at his touch, and it boosted his ego to think that he could inspire such a reaction from his amazing companion.   
  
"Doctor, oh... Touch me, please," Clara pleaded.   
  
"Mmmmm, where would you like me... to touch you Miss Oswald?" the Doctor managed between kisses. "Because I have a few places in mind... Like, here...," he said while kissing his way up to her ear, sucking and nibbling on it torturously, until he felt her squirm, and mutter words of protest under her breath.   
  
"Hmm, what was that? I couldn't hear you," the Doctor said between his assault on her earlobe and under her jaw.  
  
"I said... ah, lower. God, lower... Please," she struggled in between breaths.  
  
"Here?" He slowly trailed his hand down the side of her ribcage, and over to her right breast, drawing lazy circles on it ever so slightly.   
  
"Yes, mmm, yes... Please."  
  
His palm covered her completely, and he began to massage her gently through her bra. Reaching up to swallow her moans with frantic kisses. Clara arched up off the mattress, she couldn't stay still. Heat was beginning to pool between her thighs, and she didn't know how much more she could take.   
  
Clothes. Suddenly she was aware of how overly-dressed they were, and she decided to remedy the problem quickly.  
  
She looped her right leg between the Doctor's legs, and flipped them over, so she was straddling him. This sudden change in position threw him off guard, but he rather liked the view. He knew Clara liked to be in charge, and expected her retaliation of his assault on her at any moment.   
  
Looking down at him through dark, lidded eyes... Hair falling around her face, she looked like a goddess. And she wasn't even naked yet. Seemingly reading his mind, just then, she crossed her arms, and raised her jumper up and over her head in one quick motion, the taught muscles in her stomach clenching as she steadied herself upon him.   
  
The Doctor couldn't help but stifle an appreciative groan, and a seductive smile crossed his lips. God, she was beautiful. So petite and fit, her toned, pale body glowed in the low light of his bedroom. She reached down to rid him of his shirt, kissing the newly exposed skin on the way.  
  
"Too many layers. Why... must.. you... wear... so... many...layers?" punctuating each word with a kiss to his chest and arms. "Remind me to never play strip poker with you."  
  
And with that she divested him of all his shirts. She let out a satisfied groan, and laid down on top of him. Finally, skin on skin. But the Doctor needed more. Her pants had to go. So, he flipped them again until she was laying underneath him. Kissing her, he reached down to the button on her jeans. With the flick of his fingers, he unbuttoned the top two buttons, and slowly... TOO slowly, lowered the zipper, brushing his knuckles against her sensitive spot as he did. She involuntarily bucked in response, and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. He grabbed either side of her jeans, and slid them down her legs, lowering himself a over her as he went along. The newly exposed, creamy expanse of leg was too tantalising to resist, so he began to place wet kisses to every section of her knees and thighs he could manage. She was squirming beneath him, making impossibly sexy sounds, and he looked up to take her all in. She was clad in nothing but a royal blue bra and panties, her porcelain skin flushed from where he'd been kissing her. She was looking back down at him with such admiration and love, and the sight of it was enough to make him come, right then and there in his trousers.   
  
"God, Clara... You're gorgeous. You know that?" he said while kissing his way to her throbbing centre. He spread her legs gently, and began to kiss the inside of her thigh. The smell of her arousal was intoxicating, and all he wanted to do at that moment was taste her.  
  
As he hooked a finger in the waistband of her panties, she placed her hand over his. "You... don't have to," Clara said, her voice unusually small.  
  
"Oh, Clara. If you knew how many times I've pictured doing this to you, you wouldn't deny me the privilege of tasting you, feeling you come against my mouth. I want to watch you come apart... If you'll let me. Please," his raspy voice was dripping with want and desire.  
  
It tugged at her heart, and other places, to think that her amazing Doctor had imagined doing this to her; not only imagined it, but wanted it, just as badly as she.   
  
She gave a reassuring squeeze to his hand, and he slowly slid her knickers down and off her legs. He tortured her for what seemed like forever, kissing everywhere but the one spot she needed him. Her hands found their way to his messy hair, and she gave it a quick tug, with an impatient groan, to let him know she needed him to touch her. She felt him grin against her leg, and he finally ran the tip of his long tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves. She almost came then and there. God, what was this man doing to her?  
  
Biting her lip, she moaned between breaths, and began to move her hips against his mouth. She could feel that familiar need for release bubbling in her lower abdomen.   
  
The Doctor was drinking her in as if he was lost in the middle of a desert, and she was the only fountain for miles. He was parched, and could only be satiated by the taste of her on his lips. She tasted incredibly sweet... and a little tangy. Just like his Clara, he mused.  
  
Her shallow breaths began to quicken, and he knew she was close. He reached up to slowly slide a finger into her wetness, while continuing his ministrations with his mouth. Her moans became louder, and the sound of her pleasure went straight to his groin. He could feel her walls tighten, and he curled his finger to hit the spot where she needed him most.  
  
"Look at me," the Doctor pleaded. "Clara, look at me, love."   
  
As soon as she opened her eyes, she fell apart. An incredible wave of pleasure surged through her, the sight of the Doctor between her legs was enough to finish her off. She never once tore her eyes away from his, and he could've sworn it was the sexiest thing he'd ever witnessed. He wanted to make Clara Oswald come again and again. For the rest of his life. He was addicted.   
  
As she rode out wave after shaking wave of pleasure, the Doctor reached up to kiss her deeply. She could taste herself on his mouth, and found it extremely arousing.   
  
Reaching down, she cupped him through his trousers. "Pants. Off. Now," she demanded against his lips. He didn't have to be asked twice, and he reached down to unbutton his trousers, while they both worked to free him of his last bit of clothing. Finally. His straining erection was almost too painful against his pants, and he was thankful to finally be released. He let out a strangled groan as Clara's hands wrapped around his length, and began slowly stroking.   
  
His swollen member was impressively big, and she wondered just how he was going to fit, but before she could form any coherent thoughts, the Doctor stilled her hand on his cock.  
  
"If you want this to go anywhere, you should... ah... probably stop doing that...," he managed through gritted teeth. Amusement played across Clara's features, and for once, she obeyed him. Because as much as she'd love to feel him come apart in her hand, she'd much rather feel him come apart inside of her.  
  
"Doctor. Mmmmm, I need you... please." She was growing embarrassingly wet by the minute, and she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to be joined with him, finally, after all this time. She needed to feel him deep inside her, and never leave. This was more than about sex, and the both of them knew it. They were crossing the final threshold in their relationship. They were being joined by mind, body, and spirit.  
  
The Doctor spread her legs apart with his knee, and centred himself above her slick folds. "Are you sure?" he hesitated, reaching up to brush a strand of damp hair behind her ear.   
  
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she replied, and with that he slowly slid into her, relief overtaking them both. They moaned in unison at the new sensation, and he allowed her to adjust to his length before setting up a lazy rhythm.   
  
He noticed she still had her bra on, so he reached behind her to un-clasp it, and toss it over his shoulder. His hands and mouth began to work her thoroughly, sucking and licking one taught nipple, then the other, while keeping his pace between her legs. God, did this Time Lord know how to drive a woman crazy. She was already close to coming undone again.  
  
She noticed the Doctor's pace quicken, and become more frantic, and realised he was also close. She reached behind him to give his arse a rough squeeze, making him drive his cock into her deeper. He held her gaze while she reached between them to rub herself, feeling the familiar need once again rise within her. The sight of her pleasuring herself, was enough to send him over the edge, and he pumped a few more times before letting out a deep moan, and spilling himself into her. Just as he fell over the edge, Clara's muscles clenched around him, and she came at the sight of the Doctor riding out his orgasm, the expression of pleasure on his face was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, and she burned the image into her memory so she could always remember him in this moment.  
  
They both lay panting with their sweaty limbs entangled. The Doctor glanced over at his beautiful Clara, and couldn't believe that this had actually happened. His hearts fluttered wildly at the idea that they actually crossed the boundaries of their friendship. She was still his best friend, but now, she was his everything. The thought of being able to kiss her and hug her any time he wanted seemed a bit overwhelming. He loved her. He always knew he loved her. But looking over at her now, those big, chocolate eyes, and beautiful pouty lips, he could hardly contain the affection that was swelling within him.  
  
"Wellll," the Doctor broke the silence, "looks like I managed to get you to stay in bed after all." He grinned satisfactorily, and gave her a quick wink. "And all without tying you down, at that."  
  
"And so you did Doctor. Though next time, I wouldn't mind you tying me down," she retorted, seductively.   
  
His hearts jumped at the promise of a 'next time' and he kissed the top of her head, smiling against her hair, and snuggling her closer to him. Soon sleep overtook them both, and so they drifted off together, finally as one. The Doctor and his Impossible Girl.


End file.
